


in the arms that hold him steady

by oceandawn



Series: in another life [4]
Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Separation Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceandawn/pseuds/oceandawn
Summary: the prospect of moving in scares callum, and everything else going on right now too.but he has one thing. ben. and he knows that out of everything, he never wants to leave him.or; continuation fic of the 24/09/20 episode
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Series: in another life [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924921
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	in the arms that hold him steady

**Author's Note:**

> um. This is just 3k ish of cuddling and callum's anxiety of messing everything up. 
> 
> enjoy?
> 
> thank you to jay for the title <3
> 
> edit: cried over this [gorgeous art!](https://bensaidgayrights.tumblr.com/post/630708041429434368/id-never-put-anything-before-you-never-not)  
> that was made for this fic <333

It's the thought of never saying bye, no more promises of tomorrow because they already have a tomorrow as soon as they wake up.

Callum's used to the routine of stolen or offered seconds after work, the occasional times of stopping over when his arms feel too heavy or the constant warmth and comfort from being with someone else beats the five minute trek back to his flat in the approaching winter months.

He's always wanted to stay, but some nights, it's as if Ben expects him to leave, making plans before he does, a smile on his face and kissing Callum's cheek with a small farewell. Callum doesn't mind, but it's almost been a year since they first started dating, or officially became _something_ and the constant separation at night is starting to take its toll.

Until Ben asked. Now, he's there every night, permanently, abandoning the pink walls of his flat for walls he doesn't care to look at when Ben's right there, sleeping beside him with a content expression Callum's only seen a few spare times.

Callum was going to ask if Ben had been thinking about it for a while, moving in, but he's so overwhelmed by the prospect of being here, officially moved in with his clothes next to Ben's and their shoes kicked off into relatively the same spot — it anchors Callum more than anything else.

He's no longer hanging onto this thin thread thinking Ben might not love him as much as he says he does, because everyone has doubts no matter how much they think they have their anxiety locked down. Considering Ben asked him, wanting him to be here night and day, no breather, constantly in the same bubble and the _goodbye_ shifting into _goodnight_ knowing that a _good morning_ will follow after hours pass.

This was also a dream for Callum. Before, it was different, didn't feel right. He would have rather leaped out of that bed and never turned back, but now he never wants to leave, all of those previous thoughts coming back like one big, warm hug to push the shivers down his spine.

Ben shifts in his sleep, and Callum smiles softly, arms around his pillow. He's been awake all night thinking about _them,_ who they'll be, what they'll do. He knows he should try and sleep but he's spent so many of the last few days plagued by the thoughts of what if, and more importantly — what the _hell_ is he going to do?

Right now, lights off, quiet house, rain falling softly against the window behind blackout curtains, Callum can pretend the world outside doesn't exist. It's just him, and Ben, and whatever they decide to do.

He doesn't want to wake him, because who knows what's going through Ben's mind about all of this, but Callum is merely a moth to a flame.

Callum shuffles over, careful to move as slow as he can, having the small thought of _why are we so far apart?_

Ben's a light sleeper most nights, afraid of things he doesn't want to talk about, enemies in the shadows, but sometimes he'll be knocked out against Callum's chest, dreaming in Callum's arms, gone quickly to slumber with their legs intertwined. Callum is Ben's safe place, the physical comfort, warmth and love itself.

But they were cuddling hours ago, somewhat. Callum, restless as he is these days, got up for a drink, spotted Phil in the kitchen, and came back to bed with another storm brewing in his chest because he's not far from breaking down from the stress of it all.

He just wants Ben to be safe, to be _here,_ to be with _Callum_ and nothing more.

Callum stares somewhere between Ben's hand and his own on top of the duvet, his subconscious mind reaching out. He moves the tip of his index finger along his knuckles, softly one by one, watching as it follows the bumps before curving it onto the back of his hand.

He just wants to hold him, Callum looking back up to his face, biting his tongue.

_We'll be okay, won't we?_

_We'll get through this, won't we? That's what we do, right? We always go through hell and then find each other again._

_Won't we?_

Callum sighs, feels the burn in his chest from doing so, and bites his lip as he damns caution and folds his fingers against Ben's hand, fingertips pressing against his palm.

Ben doesn't move, but Callum wants him to, wants him to open his eyes and tell him they won't break because of this, because of deciding between two evils with Ben in the middle.

It takes a few seconds, but Ben does shift in his sleep, the grip between their hands tightening for a mere second before the grip grows weak, Ben turning onto his side, back facing towards Callum.

Their hands are still together, somehow, and maybe that's a metaphor for everything they are.

Callum shifts that ever bit closer, nose against the back of Ben's head, eyes closed at how nice and almost relieving it feels to be able to have something like this. Someone else, something more.

And it's clockwork, muscle memory, something to do with soulmates — whatever you want to call it. It happens, again and again.

Callum's hand moves, the one not holding Ben's, under his body to wrap around the bottom of his ribs, hand flat against the almost cold fabric of his nightshirt. The hands connected move too, Callum bringing them to Ben's chest where he lets go, hand flat once more, and hugging him so tight he knows Ben will wake up any moment now.

_I'd never put anything before you._

Never, not with how tight and warm he holds him, and he doesn't know how to keep saying that without repeating himself.

And with that hug, Ben curls inward, almost molding to the taller soul behind him, and that allows Callum's lips to press gently at the back of his neck. Once, twice, then a third time that lingers until he's nuzzling the somewhat longer hair at the back of his neck.

A harsh voice, thick with sleep, breaks through the silence.

"Knew you'd do that," Ben says, a content warmth in the way he laughs slightly afterwards, sighing when Callum hugs him ever closer, that little squeeze unknotting the tension he holds somewhere deep in his muscles.

Callum mumbles something between a _sorry_ and _yeah_ because he would apologise, but it's empty. He doesn't know why he feels so clingy, fingertips pulling at the shirt until he settles once more.

He's suddenly afraid of feeling cold. Torn and pulled between two people, but all he wants to be is to be with Ben. He's afraid of losing that.

Ben knows he's on edge, struggling, and he did that just knowing Callum would move closer. 

"You been awake for a while?" Asks Ben, opening his eyes to look down at Callum's arms around him. He moves his hand, tickling a thumb down Callum's forearm and hearing the way he sighs against the back of his neck.

If Ben can't help him in any other way, as long as he has this, Ben will keep doing it, keep touching, keep _reminding_ him that he's there no matter what.

"Sort of," replies Callum, going still with the comfort, Ben pulling the duvet over them again, and even though it's a struggle with all that weight behind him, he manages.

It's turning cold at night, really cold. Warmth like this, with arms around him, giving comfort back in the small ways Ben does, it's indescribable. There's no saying how this feels.

"Talk to me," Ben turns his head a little, only able to see Callum's shoulder, but he knows Callum is one move away from seeing his face. 

He doesn't, and Ben places his head back on the pillow, Callum's arms shifting again, another hug, another silent _sorry_ he can't speak because he'll give himself away.

"I heard you and my Dad talking," Ben starts for him, and Callum inhales. "Did he say something to you?"

Callum remains quiet, only his index finger moving to Ben's collar, picking at it.

"I— nah. He just — he called me family," Callum mumbles out, and Ben turns his head again at that, staying in Callum's arms as he twists that bit more to see him. 

Ben makes his way round, Callum's hands on his back now, one hand soothing under his shirt and making Ben's eyes close as he falls back to the pillow. They're still talking, but it feels like they need hours to process how final and real it feels to have Callum here for however long into their future.

There's one arm under him still, hand at Ben's neck, tickling his nape, and then the one on his spine, moving up and down with gentle pressure. Ben places his own hands on Callum's chest, warm and grounding, one of them moving to his neck, thumb tracing along his jaw.

Callum looks so soft in this light, but his eyes show fear, lingering dread, an exhaustion that almost looks like bruising. Ben hates that he can't wipe that away, and that it's partially his fault that Callum's feeling this way.

Ben lingers on his eyes, brushing his hand against that stubble for a moment longer before reaching that little distance remaining between them to kiss him. It's soft, at first, slow and somewhat unsure. He doesn't know if Callum's angry at him, or that he's simply unsure where to stand in this whole ordeal.

But he's proven wrong when Callum tugs him closer from where he holds him, fingers scratching through his hair that bit more as Ben hums from it.

He doesn't know what it is, but the feeling of being home in every sense of the word is a feeling he hasn't had chance to hold before. At least, not this long.

Callum turns ever so slightly so that Ben's head presses against the pillow while Callum's arched over him. Ben circles his arms around his neck, messing that hair that has somehow held up even after being in bed and the day already over. The white shirt on his shoulders is soft to the touch, a little baggy, and Ben's finger catches on the collar, pulling it off his shoulder slightly.

His skin is warm to the touch, almost burning, and Ben smiles when Callum's hands keep their hold around him.

 _I'll be anywhere that you are_ echoes in his head once more, solid proof in how Callum doesn't let go, holds on, pulls him closer every time Ben shifts even a small amount away. 

"You are," Ben whispers, promises against his lips as he brushes Callum's fringe away from his forehead. "Gave you a key to this house. I _want_ you to be family."

Callum's head drops, forehead to Ben's shoulder before he falls back to the pillow beside him. 

Ben eyes him, frowns a little, "You don't want it?"

And now it's Callum's turn to frown, going against his exhaustion to fall back to fall forward, lips against Ben's again with more bite than before, but it mellows, softens when Ben wraps his fingers around Callum's neck. His fingertips move down the length of that neck, curving round to the dip between his shoulders.

That's an answer, that kiss, or _kisses._ It's _always._

Callum pulls back just to look at him, one hand soothing up Ben's back, trying to decipher how his heart feels when it's so bloated and warm on confort. He just wants to fall to Ben's side and sleep for however many hours he'll claim in slumber.

His movements are heavy but delicate, weighted but so light in feeling as his fingertips tickle along the side of his ribs. Callum may be on the verge of breaking, but that doesn't mean any part of his love does.

It's a strength Ben admires, but it doesn't mean he wants it to stick around. He'd rather his smiles be weightless than painful to hold.

"Callum?"

And he can't stay silent anymore.

"It's — complicated. My family is just — so broken. Distant."

Ben pulls on one of his ears softly, then soothes his fingers through his hair again, the hand in between his shoulder blades moving back to hold his face. Looking up at him like this, it feels there's no ground beneath them, floating on time that's entirely theirs.

"I have my brother, but then who else? I rarely talk to Mick and that anymore. Yeah, he's probably the guy I look up to as my father, but it doesn't —" and there's a sound at the back of his throat, almost like swallowing is hard because he's trying to keep himself from saying it.

Saying it makes it true, in whatever twisted way that works.

Ben gives him time, feels his heart lurch and snap at how sad Callum looks when his eyes fall on him again.

"It doesn't feel like if someone asked me who my family was I could give them an answer. Like, a real one," Callum's hand presses a little more on Ben's back, almost as if he's trying to tell himself subconsciously that he _does_ have an answer to that now. "It's parts of an answer, not like how you can say you have Kathy, Lexi, Jay—"

"Hey," Ben shakes him from where he holds his jaw, and Callum closes his eyes. His chest feels tight. "You're part of that family, now. Ain't you? Lexi adores you, and you live here now. You'll probably get sick of me by next week."

Callum huffs at Ben's smirk, shaking his head until Ben's lips brush against his again, and it becomes fate to kiss back, Callum's shoulders hunching together at how he hugs Ben. Ben feels how those muscles work against Callum's back, how they shift over those wide shoulders, how warm and weighted he feels as their legs tangle.

There's the other thing bothering him, too. What side to choose.

But right now, there's no right or wrong, just _Ben and Callum,_ and his heart twists and curls with how much he wants to say that he loves him, how much he'd do anything for him.

That's a frightening thought in itself, how much he _does_ love him, how his hands fit so perfectly in his, how the winter months feel like summer with Ben around and his fiery attitude and warm love.

Callum whispers sweetly against his lips, and Ben laughs, nodding because _yeah, love you too_ — and hands search and comfort and play with heart strings.

"Can I, then?" Callum asks when Ben turns him on his back, head nuzzling into the soft white shirt before he stays still.

"Hmm?"

"Call us family," Callum twirls his fingers through a lock of Ben's hair, feeling how he smiles against his chest, and Callum follows, tilting his head so it's near where Ben lays.

"I think you can," Ben jokes, hand moving across Callum's stomach, duvet up to Ben's chin. _It's so warm._

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ben turns his head so he can see Callum's face, shuffling up that little bit more, duvet hanging over his shoulders as his chin tilts up to kiss him. "Home is where family is, right?"

Callum closes his eyes, smiling as Ben nuzzles against his cheek, and his hands come up to hold Ben's head. 

"Ain't it my job to say the poetic stuff?" Callum smiles brighter when Ben laughs at him, shrugging, because it's easy to say these things when the love he feels is so easy in itself. Sometimes there's no need for why or how, but _what._

"Well," Ben takes one of his hands, and from how easy Callum follows him, the worries of the day are truly tomorrow's problem. They're on their sides again, and from how Ben guides Callum's hand, Callum does as requested, folding his arms around Ben again and pulling him against his chest. 

They kiss sweetly, and after a minute or two, fingertips gentle and then warm and weighted against skin in comfort, Callum kisses his forehead as Ben curls his head into the space of Callum's neck. 

"Well?"

"Was gonna' say to shut me up and kiss me, but you did," Ben has this sleepy smile when Callum pulls back to see him, and the hand moving through his hair makes him close his eyes entirely. 

Ben's forgotten how good contact is. How whole it feels to have someone holding him like this, and his face expresses that, content and soft as one of his thumbs moves over the bump of Callum's collarbone. 

"Was you gonna' say home is where family is? And that because I live here, as part of your family as I am — that I'm home? That I have a home?"

Ben opens his eyes to the glazed, somewhat shining eyes of Callum, smiling as Ben does.

"Something like that," he teases, and Callum tilts Ben's chin, pulling him into a kiss once more, lips brushing warm and delicate in the quiet hours of the morning.

If anything, this is the answer he needs.

Even as time goes by, that'll be the thing he'll always have. The warmth, the comfort, how their hands always find their way back to each other.

Even if tomorrow brings a new hell, he knows that he's where he needs to be right now, in the arms that hold him steady. 


End file.
